


Game and Match

by reiriegan



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Sports, Badminton AU?, Fluff, M/M, Short One Shot, a kiss from claude is a power up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:41:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23421121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reiriegan/pseuds/reiriegan
Summary: In the middle of a badminton tournament, Claude finds the courage to take a leap of faith. Dimitri gets an unexpected boost.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 13
Kudos: 131





	Game and Match

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cerikino](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerikino/gifts).



> Note1: Um... surprise? I'M SO SORRY FOR HOW LONG THIS TOOK TO WRITE. This has been sitting in my WIPS for a while now, and I still suck at writing endings but I hope it’s okay. Think the sappiness started hitting me while writing this at 1am.
> 
> Note2: I haven’t played badminton in YEARS, but I still love this sport and have fond memories of it. If any part of it is inaccurate, I apologize because it may be based on my experience in playing at my high school’s tournaments, or from tennis cause I tend to blend those two sports together rule-wise

Shoes scuffle on the ground, and the occasional cheer rose from the stands as the regional badminton meet is well under way. In the center of the gymnasium, the stands are filled with students and spectators with a great overview. Several nets are set up and spaced out so that several games can happen at once.

In one corner of the gym, all eyes on the court are fixed on the birdie in hand.

The racket draws back and then springs forward, hitting the birdie with an underhand swing. It swiftly and deftly sails just over the net and lands with a gentle pluck on the line drawn on the floor. The player receiving the throw had read the serve wrong and is several paces back, too far to reach it in time.

“Point to server,” the referee says after the opposing team glances at them for the call.

The server straightens up with a knowing smirk, “Isn’t it nice to have a referee to help with those line calls?” He comments, twirling his racket over his wrist.

His partner giggles as they switch sides for the next serve, “Yeah, now you know where the birdie lands.”

The server moves back into position for his next serve, tapping the floor with his racket, his green eyes look sharp, “I can understand why though,” he says casually as he bends his knees, “Losing points to a bad call is a terrible thing.”

His underhand swing went slow and then all of a sudden moved fast and the birdie flies over their heads. The opponent scrambles to get her racket to the birdie but the angle is all wrong and her return ends up at the net.

“Game: Riegan and Goneril pair. This match goes to GMU,” the referee says.

“Yes! You got them, Claude!” Hilda Goneril pumps her fist and they gently tap their rackets together.

Claude shakes his head and smiles. They go to shake hands with their opponents before exiting the court, Hilda happily babbling about their match.

“They were better than the last pair we went up against. They couldn’t even read your serves while those two got it half right most of the time!”

“Well, we were playing the quarter-finals,” Claude says with a wry smile, “I would be surprised if the teams we face actually get worse.”

Hilda makes a face, “Yeah that’s true, but it feels great to win on serves.”

“Because then you won’t have to do anything?”

“I knew you would get it!”

Claude laughs, carefree and bright, “But then they won’t get to experience your lovely smashes.”

Hilda scoffs and waves dismissively as they crossed the short barricade to the table to report the scores, “Wouldn’t it be better if fewer people saw what else we got in store before we reach the final?”

“My dear Hilda, you talking about advancing rounds and playing more? Am I being a devious influence on you?”

Hilda playfully punches his arm, “You got me into this, Claude. The least we can do is win the whole thing.”

Their banter is interrupted as they reach the table, “Court 5: Riegan and Goneril,” Hilda tells the tournament staff.

The staff member flips through the pages, “Oh, you were the ones who requested a referee?”

“Yeah,” Claude answers with a sharp smile, “The other team was… unable to call the lines.”

The staff nodded and marked down the sheet, “Understood. Your next match will be at 3pm for the semi-finals.”

“In two hours?” Hilda whines, “So far!”

“Hilda. Claude.” A voice from behind makes them spin around.

“Oh hey Coach,” Claude says with a casual wave.

“Coach, what am I going to do for two hours? I’ll be so bored,” Hilda complains, twirling her pigtail.

“Join your classmates who are eating lunch in the bleachers,” Coach Byleth responds, pointing at a small corner of the stands where some familiar faces are gathered.

Claude looks over their classmates and notes a certain blond singles player is missing. He avoids looking at Hilda but she is perceptive. She notices it too.

“Oh is Dimitri playing?” She asks Coach in a borderline casual tone but Claude is familiar with it. That’s the sugary voice she uses for finding new gossip. 

Byleth nods, “Center court.”

“Amazing,” Hilda gives a shove to Claude as they headed towards the stands, “The best view in the house, right Claude?”

“Right…” Claude trails as they passed courtside on their way to the bleachers, already preoccupied with suddenly seeing Dimitri in front of him. Dimitri is already warming up for his match on the side of the court with stretches 

Dimitri lifts his head up from the stretch and his baby blue eyes meet Claude’s, “Oh, Claude!”

‘Why does he have to be handsome, strong, and their star singles player too?’ was Claude’s last thought before he raised his arm casually, “Hey Dimitri, are you playing quarter final?”

Dimitri smiles and Claude’s traitorous crushing heart skips a beat, “Semi-final actually. I had a bye in the last round.” 

It is absolutely unfair. That smile could move mountains, and Claude is not immune to it either. As far as he knows, Dimitri isn’t dating anyone, and as far as he is aware of the gossip mill, he isn’t interested in anyone either.

Except… There was that one little note that Hilda made and he could not shake it off: that Dimitri smiles more whenever Claude is around, whenever he talks to Claude, whenever there is conversation, he always includes Claude in it, asks for his opinion, and is always happy to see him...

Huh.

As Dimitri moves away to take his position on the court, Claude reaches out, “Wait, Dimitri!”

Dimitri turns back and shoots him a curious look.

After a hesitant second, Claude reaches out and grasps the collar of Dimitri’s collared t-shirt as a brace and then kisses him on the cheek.

“Go get him,” He whispers and then winks for good measure before his legs could give out.

Heart pounding in his chest, Claude turns around and avoids looking back at Dimitri as he gathers the energy to saunter away. He couldn’t believe that he just did that. He hopes it doesn’t distract Dimitri enough that it ruins his game (no, he knows Dimitri isn’t that type of person to get angry over a display of affection, being the earnest guy he is), but if it turns out that Dimitri will reject him after his match, he could at least play it off as a joke. That quick peck is something he thought might… what? Encourage him? Be good luck? 

Now he isn’t sure why he did it, and anxiousness bubbles in his stomach.

He’s afraid of turning around. To see what his impulsive action has done. He can only hope Felix and Ingrid won’t kill him if this ruins Dimitri’s chances at winning.

In front of him, Hilda is gaping and Claude brushes past her and settles on the uncomfortable bench, trying to ignore the heat creeping onto his face. 

“I don’t want to hear it, Hilda,” he sighs and turns his head from looking at the court where Dimitri is playing, letting his gaze linger on another match going on in a different corner. It looks like Leonie might be playing Edelgard in the semi-finals which means only one of their singles’ for women will make it to the final. The format of the tournament and the set up meant that no one knows the scores of each court unless a request for a referee was made. With so many games going on, it was up to each team or individuals to call the lines. If one of the team suspects foul play on the line calls, like the team he and Hilda last played, they could request a referee to read lines and call scores.

Basically, Claude and the rest of the audience of the audience would not be able to tell if Leonie or Edelgard is winning, but they are experienced enough to tell if it is being one-sided or a close match. Both Edelgard and Leonie seem to be gaining points so it looked pretty even.

“Claude… CLAUDE!” Hilda shakes him, “You have to see this!”

“What?” Claude tilts his head up and 

“First game goes to Blaiddyd: 21-3,” the referee announces and the students in their section erupts.

Claude gapes. Dimitri always requests a referee for his games, citing that he is not good at calling or remembering scores, but this time it helps because he would never have guessed Dimitri could finish a game _that quick_.

Hilda sees him turn to her and she grins, “It seems lover-boy is fired up today because of something, or someone…”

Claude fights down a blush. He has a reputation of being unflappable to maintain so he gathers strength to say nonchalantly, “I’m sure he is in great shape today.”

“He’s always in great shape with how much he trains,” Hilda lets out an appreciative snort. They have all peaked in on the locker room, or in the training rooms so of course it was an open secret. Despite the derision, she lets him have this moment and turns back to watch the rest of the match.

Dimitri wins his next match with an almost just as devastating score of 21-10 and he exits the court, breathing a bit quicker from all that exertion. Hilda nudges Claude and gestures in a silent question of ‘are you going to go to him?’ with her eyes and arms.

Claude isn’t sure. He could still feel butterflies in his stomach and it doesn’t really mean anything right? That Dimitri won his matches with such assuredness - as though his confidence has been boosted - just right after a kiss from Claude, that can’t be the actual reason right? It sounds like a romantic tale invented by someone else, not Claude's life. Even if Dimitri sometimes seems like a prince lifted from a storybook with his blend of sweet and handsome. Claude could admit that.

He stands up, watches Dimitri make his way over to the tables to report his results, and leaves the bleachers and exits through the doors. The gymnasium is too loud. He needs a moment to himself to think things through.

The hallways are dim, as the tournament area is closed off to others in the building, even the hallways, and Claude leans against the wall to take in a deep breath.

What should he say to Dimitri? After what he did, and then what Dimitri did. It could have been a coincidence and Claude is a fool, or perhaps Dimitri happened to be already energetic at the moment and completely in the zone. Or maybe his opponent was not as skilled as everyone thought or maybe-

“Claude?”

His eyes shot open. (When did he close them?) “Dimitri?!”

Standing in front of him with a towel on his shoulder and a concerned look was Dimitri, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Claude replies, and then a split second and he remembers, “Congratulations on your match.”

"Oh, you saw the game?” Dimitri says, looking a bit… nervous? Apologetic? Usually DImitri is easy to read but at that moment, Claude couldn’t figure it out through all the fog in his head.  
  
“Well, I kind of missed the first game, but I saw the second. You were on fire,” Claude says, throwing on his usual smile.

Dimitri did not smile back, a serious look on his face instead and Claude’s smile fades.

“Claude. I have to ask you something,” Dimitri says slowly, and Claude blinks, a little taken aback.

“Ask away.”

Dimitri fidgets a little and some small part of Claude’s brain that hasn’t disappeared in the fog yet melts, “Will you… go out with me?”

His brain full on _stops_.

What?

Claude realizes he is wide-eyed, an unsuspecting deer caught by headlights, and Dimitri is the vehicle stumbling towards him. He has to say something right? His mouth is moving but Claude isn’t sure what he is saying, but he knows what he wants to say.

“Can I?”

_What?_

Dimitri looks surprised for a moment, and then he smiles. It is a gorgeous smile, and Claude realizes his face is becoming a colour even his complexion cannot cover and he snaps out of it.

“I mean… yes!” Claude blurts out, “Yes I will!” He reaches out instinctively and Dimitri responds, wrapping his hand around his own, pushing them both closer.

“I’m happy,” Dimitri says quietly, “During the entire match I… I was so happy that you seemed to reciprocate my feelings. I really wanted to tell you that.”

Claude laughs, slightly hysteric, “So that’s why you practically destroyed your opponent. Now I feel just a little bit bad for them.”

“It won’t happen again,” Dimitri insists, and only kind, noble Dimitri would say something like that in a competition, and considers a kiss from Claude to be helping him cheat in a sport. Claude could only feel absolutely flattered.

He rubs the spot between Dimitri’s thumb and index finger gently, almost tenderly, “Well that can’t be right. We’re supposed to win against our opponents right?” 

Claude leans forward even more, almost touching heads. His green eyes sparkling with love and mischief, “How about a real kiss then? For good luck in our next matches, and then you can think about where to take me on our first date.”

Dimitri turns red, visible even in the darkened hallway, but he smiles again, elated. He surges forward in that tiny space still left between, tugs Claude so close he practically fall against him. Their lips meet, enthusiastic and giving them both the answer in one fell swoop.

And they do in fact win their next matches.

**Author's Note:**

> On another note, why are the current dmcl fics so... dense.. I just want something light hearted gosh... well, here, have my contribution then.


End file.
